In Buddhist philosophy there is the concept of "right action." Strictly speaking, it is referring to following the other precepts along the Eightfold Path and refraining from killing, stealing, misuse of sex or intoxicants. I've always thought of it in more personal terms.
To me, right action is like that moment in one of the Indiana Jones movies where he has to cross this huge chasm. I may be remembering this incorrectly, but I think this is how it goes: he can't see a way across the chasm until he puts his foot forward in a total act of faith, and then, magically, a narrow bridge appears. Balancing on that, he has to put his other foot forward in a total act of faith, and then, magically, the bridge extends and he tenuously crosses the chasm.
In my life, this is more what right action feels like.
Whenever I've made a really big decision that stemmed from all the right values for me, or even when I'm making smaller daily decisions that are also stemming from the right values, I feel like I'm in that zone of right action. Things work better for me. I am the Ferris Beuller of the world, with doors opening and closing at the right time, and the mechanisms of the world conspiring to make my life easier.
Conversely, when I'm not in that zone and I'm doing things for the wrong reasons, or am totally ungrounded and unconscious, then things all tend to go wrong. Doors slam in my face, my toes get stubbed, the computer starts acting up, all the traffic lights are red.
We all know what that is like. And we all know what brings on the red traffic lights. Living too fast, working too hard, getting too angry at others and ourselves... we start spinning out of control and the annoyances keep mounting up. For me, it usually takes getting sick and having to reboot for a day or so in bed to discharge all that accumulation of bad juju and get back to a baseline.
Apparently, I am really needing it this time around, because apparently I am really sick.
I'm in this place of rebooting down to the very core basics. And I am feeling really good because I'm doing the right things for myself. I am eating really well -- real food, with a minimum of meat and dairy products and no sugar. I am exercising daily, with at least 30 minutes of walking and usually more. I am taking myself to Descanso to breathe in the unspeakably sweet air of spring, sparkling with lilac and wisteria and freshly watered lawns. I am taking time to watch more birds and write more words. I did yoga twice last week. I am brushing and flossing and taking my herbs and supplements. In short: I am taking care of myself diligently. And I feel just so much better than when I wasn't. And I'm no less productive, and probably even more so. So it's not a matter of time and leisure. It's just obvious that everything goes better when I'm taking better care of myself.
Since I know what I need to do to make myself feel this good -- why don't I do it? Why does it take a huge crises and more than a whiff of mortality to shake me up enough to actually do the things that make me feel better? To put it another way, why do I continue to do things that don't make me feel better? What is the benefit in that?
I'm not sure we really think of it in terms of a binary choice, actually. It's not like we wake up and think, hmmm, I'll make really bad choices today knowing full well that they could impact me negatively down the line and I'll wake up one day really regretting all the times I chose not to exercise, or to have that extra Fatburger, or to put off that mammogram an extra few months. I think we wake up and kind of think we have an infinite amount of time. I really do understand that I should take better care of myself -- emotionally, creatively, physically -- but I'll do that later. I will give now and replenish tomorrow. And there will be plenty of time for both.
It's the downside of our incredible skill at being able to ignore our limited time on the planet. Since we have convinced ourselves we have an infinite amount of time, we tend to do the easy things instead of the difficult things, or the things for others instead of ourselves, or the quick things instead of the things that will take some thought and time, or the wrong things which we will atone for later, or the fun things which we will take aspirin for in the morning. We make our choices not always based on right action for this moment, but based on what we feel is right, or get-awayable-with, for right now. Which would be OK, if we truly had an infinite number of days to get the other choices made as well. But we don't. And we have an incredible ability to not remember that fact... ever.
Well, hardly ever.
In my current state of upheaval and uncertainty, I have been (mostly) acutely aware of the limited amount of time we all have. And this fact has been amazingly potent. It strips away so much bullshit from so many things that usually plague me. It is so much clearer to me these days what truly matters, and what truly doesn't. My constant striving for perfection is replaced by an acceptance of good enough. My annoyance at petty irritations at the hands of other people, is replaced (most of the time) by a sense of compassion and a renewed visitation of the current moment.
To me, this is right action because it enables me to hear what's going on in the present moment and make my choices according to the unconscious ebbs and flows of unseen forces. I had an incredible moment this weekend when, after doing some work for my mom at her condo, and then spending a little time with my girlfriend Jane, I decided to go to Descanso for a walk instead of going to work immediately. At Descanso, I took a meandering series of paths, trying to get into the more remote corners of the acreage and away from the hordes of Cherry Blossom festival attendees. I didn't have a sense of time or of urgency and I really enjoyed my ramblings, ending up at the duck pond to check out who was in town this weekend.
And there I ran right into my doctor. My beloved, wonderful, woman doctor, who is funny and down to earth and harder to reach than the Pope. To actually see her, in the flesh, and have a conversation with her was the thing I absolutely needed more than anything else in the world at that moment... and because I had been attuned to those mysterious ebbs and flows, we converged in the same place at the same time.
She told me that, without a doubt, I'd be fine and emerge from this (relatively) unscathed. She said it would be a magnificent hassle but that I would look back on this in ten years and barely remember it happened. She had seen the MRIs, the results of which I won't know officially until tomorrow, and told me that the left side was perfectly clear. That was a huge relief. She said that maybe kind of sort of there may be something in a lymph node, but it was impossible to tell. I don't know how much time she spent looking at this, but we'll be seeing my surgeon tomorrow and will know all of this in detail then.
She also told me how to arm myself. Get a second opinion, she said. That's just good diligence. Also, get a "nerd notebook" to put everything in. Get CDs of all my records and have them at hand. Keep lists and questions and answers and contact numbers. Ask the surgeon if you should see an oncologist before we "drop the knife." (I love my doctor.) Ask everything and write it all down so you can feel like you have as much control as you can over an uncontrollable situation.
It was great. She said Poor baby, and hugged me and assured me a dozen times that it'd be fine. And, talking to her, I knew it would be.
Right action. I followed the stones over the chasm the right way that day, and was rewarded.
Today... I pretty much didn't. I worked too hard, I got too tired, this sustained energy over this issue is starting to drain me. One week post-diagnosis, I woke up thinking "OK, I'm done with having cancer. Can we move on now?" And of course we haven't really started.
Tomorrow I will go see the surgeon. A woman surgeon, which makes me happy. She comes well recommended. I will book a second opinion at City of Hope. I will continue to eat right and walk and stay in that path of right action as best as I can. It's 10:40 pm and I haven't smelled the outside world since my early morning walk with Sam. I think I'll go and revisit it again now before I try to sleep.
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